Back ground to 'The Ethics of Embryonic Stem Cell Research'

I wrote this paper for a Honors Biomedical Ethics seminar I took last spring. I never wrote about the class while I was in it, because even now, it's is difficult for me to speak negatively about my teachers. This is probably a result of coming from a family of educators. But, truth be told, this class was THE hardest class I have ever taken, from an emotional and spiritually viewpoint. Looking back now, I should have known what I was getting myself into, but hindsight is 20-20 right? This class is normally reserved for bio-med majors in the 7 year B.S/M.D program. So I, always the idealist, requested a permit to take it. I thought it would help round out my education or something (as if people go to college to get educated these days).

The class began well enough, I was very excited about the topics we were going to cover. Even better, my professor had actually worked in the field as a cardiac surgeon. But, it didn't take very long for me to realize that this class was not what I thought it was going to be. The professor made it very clear to us from day one that he knew he was a big-wig in the world of medicine and that a recommendation letter from him would be a great asset to anyone applying to med school. I was already in the USF College of Nursing, so I wasn't particularly concerned with working extra hard to make sure I stayed on his good side. However,  I was the only one in the class who could say that. It also became abundantly clear that my professor wasn't really concerned with teaching us to think ethically, or to think at all for that matter. My professor had a worldview and he was intent on replicating that worldview in us. Unfortunately, our world views were about as polar opposite as you could get.

Class generally went like this: 
He would give a mini lecture on a topic to introduce it to us. He would then pose a question or a scenario and then proceed to go one by one down the rows asking each person what they thought. At first, I willingly voiced my opinions, as every professor I had before seemed to appreciate an active participant. But, it didn't take me long to realize that the only opinions he appreciated were his own.

For the most part, as he went down the rows, everyone agreed with each other, with some slight variations. That is until we would get to me. 99% of the time whatever he/the class thought was the 'right' thing to do was, I thought the opposite. I don't say that proudly, I don't take pleasure in being contrary. Depending on the topic, and his mood, he would then proceed to either bulldoze me or insult and ridicule me. The first time he made personal remarks about me in front of that class, I was shell-shocked. I had been treated that way by students before, and I didn't really mind that, but a professor? His bias became more and more evident as time went on. I started to notice that my grades were markedly lower than everyone else and his tirades in class got more personal.

Sometimes, the things that people would say that they thought were ethically permissible would make me want to vomit, then weep. To be honest, I sometimes half-seriously prayed "Lord, I hope these people don't get into med school, they'll kill people!" (Probably not the best way to pray for people). One group on their final project had this suggestion for solving the organ donation crisis: Genetically alter human embryos so that they are born with the condition known as anencephaly (a condition where a baby is essentially born without a brain) then harvest the organs! I was disgusted and dismayed. Now I understand why doctors have the reputation of having 'God complexes', they start teaching them to think they are Gods in undergrad!

I eventually grew to dread the class, the windowless inner room of the honors college labyrinth never seemed to have enough air.  To add insult to injury, I was pretty sure I was going to fail the class. I never got above an 80 on a single paper and I flat out failed the midterm. This made me exceptionally nervous because I was concerned that a low grade in the class would jeopardize my conditional acceptance to the College of Nursing. I went to talk to my Honors adviser, who had been a great help to me in times past, and he suggested that I speak to one of the Honors College Deans about my concerns. I was skeptical that this would be of any use, but for the sake of my adviser, I thought I'd at least give it a try. To my disappointment, the meeting went as I expected. I tried to explain about the personal attacks and bias in the grading. However,  I was essentially told to "shut up and deal with it, it's his class and he can do what he wants". I lost my faith in the Honors College at that point in time. It was a very rude awakening. I would have dropped out of the class and the Honors College if it wouldn't haven't meant repaying tons of money to Bright Futures. Also, I don't think I could have lived with myself if I had given up and backed down.

So I gritted my teeth, and buckled down and dealt with it. I showed up to every class, on time. I worked my butt off on every assignment. I tried to keep my head down and only speak when called upon. And you know what? I couldn't see it then, but the lessons I learned in that class were invaluable and I wouldn't go back and change one single thing. He may have humiliated me and made me cry, but persecution only increased my faith in God.


I learned several very valuable lessons from that class:

1. The world and I are not friends. We can never be friends. The world may play nice for a while, but don't get comfortable. Remember what Jesus said "A servant is not greater than his Master, if the world hates you it is because they hated me first."

2. It is always worth it to stand up for what is right. Even if you are the only one. Don't defile your conscious.

3. But, sometimes it's okay to not voice your opinion on a subject. Make sure you only die on the hills that are worth it.

4. Remember to respect authority, 1 Peter style (the gentle and the harsh).

5. The discipline of the Lord is not pleasant, but painful, but afterwards it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.